Cat's Cradle
by Rusty Halos
Summary: To catch a villain, sometimes you need a villain…or at least a former one. When the League needs help hunting Batman's killers, they're forced to turn to his widow, the ex-thief Catwoman. Selina Kyle isn't exactly the hero type, but amidst mutual distrust and hostility, she somehow gets entangled with a League that'd hunted her for years, and a Team that needs a new mentor.
1. Prologue

**Cat's Cradle**

Disclaimer: Don't own a thing – Rating: T on the cusp of M – Warnings: Language

* * *

00. _Prologue_

* * *

The rapid click-clack of stilettos approaching at a run made everyone inside the crowded, silent waiting room look up just in time to see a tall, dark-haired woman burst through the doorway. Without a glance at the rest of the room's occupants, she spoke directly to the huge man who had bolted quickly to his feet seconds before she'd arrived.

"How is he?" she demanded more than asked, her steady, stern voice belied by the ruby red lips that formed a tense slash against the pale, flawless skin of her face.

Clark Kent, who was not nearly as good at controlling his expression, glowered down at her. "In surgery," he replied, voice harsh and strained. "Where did you come from?"

After a pause, she said, "Bogotá. Not that that's of any relevance to you."

"Actually, it is. Because we managed to pin point South America as the origin of the radio signals controlling the—,"

"You must be kidding me." Her voice didn't get any louder, but there was an edge of steel in it that made it very clear that he'd _better_ be kidding.

Clark's expression only hardened, and tense silence reigned for a long second before she hissed, "Get out."

Before the rest of the room's occupants had properly digested her words, Barry Allen was standing next to them, a placating hand on each of their tensed shoulders.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said. "Let's just…calm down, okay? We're all really worked up right now, not thinking things through. There's no need to do this, and especially not at this time—,"

"No, Barry," the woman said, stepping away from the speedster's touch. "I think I've had quite enough of this."

"So have I," Clark said stonily, crossing his arms. "You can't command me, Selina. And I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh yes I can," Selina Kyle shot back, cold fury replacing her stony mask and contorting the lines of her beautiful face. "Within the four walls of this hospital, I can. When you accuse me of scheming to take over whatever the fuck it is now while I wait to see whether my husband lives or dies, I sure as hell can tell you to get out. And I'm telling you right now to _get out_."

"Selina," Richard Grayson said, and she turned around to face his wide, pleading blue eyes and the haggard expression that looked unnatural on a face that was still so young. "Selina, let's go outside and see if there are any more updates. Maybe…maybe they forgot to inform us."

"No," said Clark and Selina at the same time, locking eyes with each other again.

"So you're telling me you had _nothing_ to do with this?" Clark said, his tone ugly with obvious disbelief. "That it was all just a coincidence? That you're the grieving wife whose old ex-con buddies _just happened_ to be the ones who tried to kill—,"

"How dare you, you sanctimonious bastard," she interrupted, voice low and poisonous. "You've made your _disapproval_ of me very, very clear for a very, very long time. I have never given a rat's ass whether or not I got the Boy Scout seal of approval, but I absolutely draw the line at allowing you to use what happened to him tonight as a public forum to expose my supposed evil plans—,"

"I'm not doing anything of the sort! Stop trying to make me out to be the bad guy here," Clark retorted, sounding outraged.

"The hell you're not!" Selina snapped, unable to stop herself from stepping dangerously close to him, every muscle in her body instinctively, visibly tensing for a fight.

"That's _enough_!" Diana says, getting to her feet. Her voice is authoritative, and stern enough to make both Selina and Clark turn around. "Please, continue this later. This is not the right time or place." Her gaze is pointed as she nods at Barbara Gordon, whose shoulders won't stop shaking with the force of hiding her silent sobs, and Tim Drake, who looks so painfully young and lost that it makes Selina start towards him immediately.

Before she makes it to his side, a doctor steps into the room, his eyes deeply sympathetic. Selina knows that look, hates that look—she's never had the stomach for pity, and she can feel bile churning in her gut, making her nauseous, stilling every muscle in her body.

"Mrs. Wayne? Could you please step outside with me for a moment?"

* * *

For all his wealth, Bruce Wayne, the _real_ Bruce Wayne, had never been a particularly flashy man. Selina liked that about him.

_Had_ liked that about him.

His funeral reflected that. It was small, private. Someone had ensured that there were absolutely no reporters, no cameras, no sound bites, none of those crass props that had played such an essential role in the faces he showed the world, both masked and unmasked.

Nearly the entire League was there, all those who could walk amongst the human guests without attracting too much attention. The original members of the Team, those who had known his real identity, were there as well, clustered around Barbara, Tim, and Richard.

Selina stood beside Alfred, who she had never really thought of as _old_ before all of this. White haired though he may have been, Alfred had forever been the starched, dignified, ageless cornerstone of their often tumultuous lives.

Today, however, she could swear she saw every year he'd lived etched into the deep, sorrowful lines around his mouth and eyes. Today, he was burying a son.

Neither of them were criers. Selina thought that was perhaps why they'd gravitated towards each other, amongst the small crowd of familiar faces and wet eyes, and chose to stand together, apart from the rest. It would be a lie to say she had been able to control the tears—or even wanted to—when she was confronted by her empty bed or the wedding band and neatly scrawled note he'd left on the dresser before suiting up that night. Growing up in The Narrows, however, had pretty much stripped her of the ability to show such an overt sign of weakness when there were so many watching eyes, studying her and sizing her up—the board members of Wayne Enterprises and the League alike. Neither groups trusted her—to them, she was the gold digging wife, the manipulative thieving villain, or both.

It occurred to her that it might be smarter, more logical, to force some tears out. That's what regular wives did, wasn't it? They sobbed over their husbands' dead bodies, refusing to let go of the casket. For a moment, she concentrated on making her eyes water, but gave up with a harsh little laugh. Somehow, she was sure Bruce wouldn't care whether or not she made a spectacle over his grave, and when it came down to it, his was the opinion that really mattered.

"Selina."

She didn't turn her eyes away from the simple, sober wood casket, but she acknowledged Clark with a slight nod. They hadn't spoken personally since the night Bruce had died, and she knew better than to think that his civil tone now meant he had forgotten.

"I'm…sorry for your loss."

The words had been repeated to her so often over the last few days that the syllables had lost their meaning. The sounds simply fell like dead weight.

"Thank you." Her reply was even and emotionally neutral, steady even when she felt like her entire body was slightly off kilter, her skin barely containing everything that she was inside.

"We need to speak with you, if you have a quick moment later," Clark continued, and she could sense him shifting uncomfortably when she still did not meet his gaze.

A light drizzle was beginning to make the grounds of Wayne Manor slick and muddy. She inhaled deep of the scent of the earth, the green, good smell that felt like life on a day that had felt like death.

"We?" she asked, though there wasn't a need. She knew who he was referring to.

"The League. Maybe after…the casket is buried?"

She noted the slight huskiness of his voice when he spoke of the casket that held a man who had been his brother in arms. She remembered that he had lost someone too, and maybe that was why she nodded in agreement.

* * *

"Though we paid a heavy price, the mission was…a success," Dinah Lance said.

"You needn't tiptoe around my fragile psyche," Selina said drily, adjusting her simple black dress to give her hands something to do. Being around this many members of the cape and tights crew would forever put her on edge, no matter how often she interacted with them. "I'm aware that he's dead."

Dinah shot her a penetrating look, while Oliver Queen, who was standing at her shoulder, gave her a quick, impish smirk. Selina suddenly liked him a whole lot more. At least he could appreciate a dose of black humor, unlike the other Leaguers, who looked more than a little scandalized.

"Ah. Well, it was a success, but it was only a small part of a larger picture," Dinah continued after a slight pause. "And…well…Bruce was an essential part of the larger picture. Without him, we can't really accomplish what we had hoped to. This is a time sensitive case, and we can't compensate for the loss of his skills before we need to begin our next step."

"I'm assuming there's a reason that Richard can't help you out?" asked Selina, trying to fathom why on earth the Justice League was telling her about their staffing issues. She had never been privy to much of League business. Bruce was nothing if not discreet.

"Nightwing has to facilitate the parts of the mission that require the Team to participate," Dinah explained. "Each of the others who would even come close to having the skill necessary are already playing their own roles. Bruce had this meticulously planned so that everyone could play to their strengths."

"Er," said Selina, trying for diplomacy. "That's…terrible news."

"She's trying to ask you to take his spot," interjected a familiar voice. Selina turned to see Richard walking up to them, looking so handsome and adult in his perfectly tailored black suit and slicked back hair that it almost would have made Selina grin with sisterly pride if she hadn't been so taken aback by his words.

Catching the look on her face, Dinah hurried to continue. "Right—we wanted to ask if you could take over part of Bruce's responsibilities for this mission. Just…the parts that we can't cover by shifting roles around."

"Oh," said Selina, unable to stop one eyebrow from arching up in disbelief. "Aren't I a little too…how should I put this…_in-justice-y_ for your tastes? I mean, I'm no superhero. I don't do Spandex, capes, or rescuing."

At a different time, Selina might have laughed at the near simultaneous consternation that flitted across the faces that were gathered about her in the small group of Leaguers.

"We tried to find an alternative," Clark said, looking pretty dissatisfied with the whole situation. "But there really wasn't a choice. It's a pretty specific skillset and you were the only one we could think of in the end. The only one not currently incarcerated, anyway."

Now both her eyebrows were raised. "Meaning you were caught between a rock and a hard place, and you had to choose the lesser of two evils?"

"I think you're mixing your metaphors there," Oliver said, sounding quite amused. "Don't tell me you're hurt you weren't the first choice to the dance."

"I'm devastated," Selina said, one side of her mouth lifting to shoot him a smirk before she replied more seriously. "Look, I'm retired. I made a promise to retire—an important promise—and I did."

"If you're afraid that you're rusty, you can always train up with the Team," Clark said, exasperation creeping into his tone. The expression on his face said, clear as day, that he was asking this of her against his better judgment, and that made Selina's temper flare up.

"Whoever said I was rusty?" she said with a slight frown, unable to keep the defensiveness out of her tone.

"So you'll do it?" asked Richard, obviously trying to head off another argument. "Because that sounded like you're going to say you'll do it."

Selina caught the slight pleading look he sent her, and softened a little. On the one hand, she'd told Bruce she was done with the kind of life that required her to use her particular skillset. On the other hand, they hadn't been talking about helping the League go about their business at the time.

It also didn't escape her that going on this mission meant she'd get to face down those who'd made this funeral necessary in the first place, and in the guise of a hero, no less. She might be playing at genteel high society wife now, but Selina Kyle was who she was—a woman who was no stranger to chasing the burning addiction of erstwhile retribution, no stranger to the dream of a vengeance that never seemed quite sweet enough. The thought of slipping into her old habits to pursue Bruce's killers had occurred to her over and over again, in the quiet dark solitude of nights in the empty Manor. The only thing that had stopped her so far was the look Bruce would give her if he was there to hear her thoughts.

She knew, she _knew_, that pursuing revenge was more likely to shred her life to ruins than not, but then again, what life was she living now? What life would she live if she never loosed that dark part of herself and, instead, allowed it to fester inside, eating at her with _what if's _day after day?

_That _future didn't look so hot, either.

She lifted her gaze to meet the solemn faces of the Justice League, and said, "Yeah, Dick. I'll do it."

* * *

"I was under the assumption that you thought I was colluding with Bruce's killers," she said, unflinching when he narrowed his electric blue eyes at her.

"I…" he began, turning away so that he was gazing out over the small groups of people leaving Bruce Wayne's grave and walking across the glistening, emerald green grounds of the Manor. "I shouldn't have accused you so hastily without any evidence."

Selina almost rolled her eyes. "So I should still operate under that assumption."

"Look," Clark said, "I don't trust you, but you're needed for this mission. I'm…relieved that you decided to do it. I won't deny that, had it been up to me, your name would never have been brought up for this job, but that doesn't change the fact that you're allowing us to get one step closer to defeating the enemy. The enemy that killed Bruce."

She was silent for a long second, carefully smoothing out the wrinkles in her black silk gloves. "He would never have said it to your face, but he cared a great deal for you."

She didn't miss the way his hands balled into fists in the pockets of his jacket.

"I would never have said it to his face, but I cared a great deal for him as well," Clark replied. He turned his face slightly to catch her eyes. "As such, if I find out that you jeopardized this mission in any way, or if I find out that you are even the slightest bit connected to his death…"

Selina's gaze turned infinitely colder. "Don't accuse me of killing my husband again, and we won't have a problem, Boy Scout."

* * *

_To be continued…_

* * *

**Author's Note:** Whew. That was a really long prologue, sorry guys. I promise YJ's main characters are taking the stage next; I just wanted to set up Selina Kyle's character before I delved into those that are more familiar, since, for all intents and purposes, she's an OC in this fandom. Some quick notes for those interested: _The Dark Knight Rises_ is the obvious influence for my Selina—I loved that Nolan's Catwoman wasn't campy or ridiculous, but instead rough around the edges and quite fascinating. The friendship between Batman and Superman is drawn from the _Superman/Batman_ animated film, which was pretty much an ode to their bromance (culminating in Superman shouting "That was my best friend…AND YOU KILLED HIM!"). YJ's Superman definitely has his issues (see: treatment of Connor, season one), so I tried to depict him as having a more "human" response to the death of Batman, and not necessarily just reacting as the perfect Big Blue Boy Scout.

I also utilized the characters' "regular people" names in this chapter (since they were incognito), so for those who are unfamiliar with them, here's a quick guide to DC alter egos: **Bruce Wayne** is Batman; **Clark Kent** is Superman; **Selina Kyle** is Catwoman; **Richard Grayson **is Nightwing; **Barry Allen** is the Flash; **Diana** is Wonder Woman; **Dinah Lance** is Black Canary; **Oliver Queen** is Green Arrow; **Tim Drake** is the new Robin; and **Barbara Gordon** is Batgirl.

Anyways, to cap off this really long A/N, this is the first time I've ever written anything at all like a superhero story, and I'm coming off a long break from writing, so I'm pretty scared I've butchered it already. Really hope you guys liked it, and please drop me a review if you have any questions/comments :)


	2. The Opening Act

**Cat's Cradle**

See chapter's end for A/N – Disclaimer: Don't own a thing – Rating: T on the cusp of M

* * *

01. _The Opening Act_

Artemis shifted restlessly on one of the couches that filled Mount Justice's common room. Though she and Wally had sworn off the superhero life when they started at Stanford three years before, they'd inevitably been drawn into various conflicts and missions over the years. It was an addicting high, a high they craved in a way neither she nor her boyfriend liked to think too hard about.

And when they'd heard about Batman….well.

She sighed, feeling rather small, a sensation she was not, in any way, accustomed to. All of them—they'd always seen Batman as invulnerable, intimidatingly clever and always several steps ahead. He was their mentor, their boss, an unshakeable, constant guardian. It seemed unfathomable that he was gone. The reminder of how very human he really was had shaken them to the core, and Artemis felt it keenly. She was just a normal human, too, when it came down to it.

Unbidden, the picture of Bruce Wayne's plain wooden casket crossed her mind. It seemed impossible that such a thing could contain the superhero they'd known.

A warm hand settled on her shoulder, and she looked up into Connor's solemn face.

"It's good to see you here, at the Cave," he said quietly. "Even in this circumstance."

She smiled wanly. "It's good to be here. Where's M'gann?"

"She's with Barbara. They're sitting with Tim. He's…taking it hard," Connor replied, frowning.

Artemis sighed. "Yeah, so is Dick, not that he'd ever admit anything of the sort. He's with Wally, retrieving the guy that's supposed to replace Batman."

Connor snorted. "I still don't understand who the League could have possibly gotten. I mean, the closest thing we've got to Batman is Nightwing, and instead of giving him the job, they're bringing in a new guy? A guy that's not even in the League?"

"You know as well as I do that the Team needs Nightwing right now," Artemis said. "All these new members…I mean, some of them are just kids. Superpowered though they might be, they need someone who understands their weaknesses and limitations, who can utilize them efficiently and strategically. Not just that, a lot of them have realized how…deadly this job can really be. They're scared. They need reassurance, courage. Nightwing is the only person who can do all that, right now."

Connor's mouth tightened. "Yeah. I guess. I just don't like the idea of having someone new right now, I suppose. Batman's…replacement."

"It's just temporary," Artemis said, drawing her legs up and resting her chin against her knees as she stared unseeingly at the television. "I mean, we all know Nightwing will eventually…he'll eventually be the one who replaces Batman. He was made for it."

* * *

"How you holding up, dude?" Wally said quietly, as he and Dick walked down the bustling streets of Gotham near nightfall, dressed in their civvies.

"I'll manage," Dick replied, giving his best friend a small smile. "I'm more worried about Batgirl and Robin."

"Batgirl's tough," Wally said, "And Robin will be fine. All the chicks are fussing over him. But you…have you even taken a break? You look like you haven't slept in days."

"It's fine," Dick said. "Someone has to continue where Batman left off, all the leads he uncovered and the research he was doing. I've been working at the Batcave whenever I have a spare moment."

"How about Batgirl? You guys could at least split the work, if you won't let anyone else into the Batcave. If you keep skimping on the sleep, though, you're not going to be of much use to anyone in a dead faint."

"I said I'd manage," Dick said, in a tone that obviously indicated he was done with the topic.

Wally sighed, and ran a hand through his bright red hair, following Dick as he steered them down a smaller, empty side street.

"Alright then. Hey, how about this replacement? Who's the guy? I heard it was someone new…someone the Justice League had never worked with before. Isn't it kind of risky to bring someone like that in right now?"

Dick gave a short laugh. "You'll see, soon enough. In fact, you'll see right now if you care to turn around."

"Wha—," Wally spun around quickly, and sure enough, there was a person standing in the shadows right behind them, leaning against one of the dilapidated buildings that lined the street.

"Whoa," Wally said. "I didn't even…"

"She does that," Dick said drily.

Wally's eyes widened into saucers as he watched "the guy" approach, moving towards them with a kind of languorous, supple grace that resembled nothing so much as a jungle cat stalking its prey. It was immediately apparent that, whatever else "the guy" was, she certainly wasn't…well…a _guy_. Dressed in knee high stiletto boots and a black armored cat suit that bore no symbol or decoration, there wasn't much room for doubt that Batman's replacement was very, very female. As she came closer, Wally could see that she wore a simple black domino mask to hide the sharp lines of her face, and her lips were painted a deep blood red. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight, high bun, exposing the long line of her neck and a delicate silver necklace that disappeared beneath her suit.

"Whoa," Wally said again. There was something very, very familiar about this woman, in the way she cocked an eyebrow at him and smirked a little, but he couldn't quite place her. "Um. Hi."

"Hello," she said, voice husky and pleasantly accented. She sounded French, if Wally was placing it correctly.

"Hello," Dick replied, and Wally noticed that he graced the mystery woman with a genuine smile. "Ready to go?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," she said. "Though I have to say, it never occurred to me I'd one day be entering any sort of Justice League hide out. Should I be nervous?"

"Nah," said Wally, recovering quickly from his momentary gaping. "We like everyone. Except for the bad guys, of course."

The woman looked startled for a second, dark eyes widening behind her mask, before throwing her head back and laughing heartily.

"It's a good thing I'm not a bad guy, then," she said, still grinning as she turned and led them on towards one of Gotham's hidden zeta tubes.

* * *

Artemis and Connor looked up as the Caves's computer system announced, "Recognized: Superman, Zero One."

"Did you know he was coming?" asked Artemis, slightly confused. "Are we getting a mission assignment or something?" Superman wasn't a regular visitor to the Cave, and usually only appeared when he had a specific purpose.

"I had no idea," said Connor, as the computer system announced Black Canary, Green Arrow, and Wonder Woman.

"Whoa," said Artemis, blinking. "This is becoming a regular party. At this rate, the entire League is going to show up."

The other members of the Team, who'd heard the announcements from their various spots around Mount Justice, were starting to trickle into the common room, wondering what the occasion was. Red Tornado descended from his apartment, and joined the other Leaguers, who had gathered in front of the zeta tubes.

"Recognized: Flash, Zero Four," the computer intoned, as the speedster joined his colleagues.

"They don't look too happy," Conner observed. "I mean, even less happy than they've looked this week."

Artemis frowned. "You're right. Superman looks like he's about to have an aneurysm. Y'know. If Kryptonians could have aneurysms." Her phone rang, and she dug into her back pocket to retrieve it. With a glance at the caller ID, she picked up. "What's up, Wally?"

"Hey babe, we're about to zeta to the Cave. Are Flash and the others there yet?" her boyfriend asked.

"Mmhmm," she responded. "It's starting to feel a little like Watchtower: The Sequel in here. Care to tell me what's going on?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Wally said. "See ya in a sec!"

She heard the beep that indicated he'd hung up, and gave her phone a little irritated scowl. "Well, apparently we're going to be brought up to speed as soon as Baywatch and Nightwing get here."

"Great," muttered Connor. "It's so nice to be in the loop."

Before she could reply, the computer broadcasted the latest arrivals.

"Recognized: Nightwing, B01; Kid Flash, B03; Dysmas, A15."

"Dysmas," repeated Connor, getting to his feet and hauling Artemis up. "Must be the new guy, we should go get a closer look."

It seemed like every other person in Mount Justice had had the same idea upon hearing the new name announced, and the group in front of the zeta tubes had become more like a small crowd.

"There seem to be a lot of people here, for a place that's supposed to be a super-secret headquarters," the stranger remarked drily, as she stepped off the zeta tube platform and ran her cool, dark gaze along the sea of faces turned towards her. "Don't tell me I'm crashing Comic-Con."

"Oh," said Artemis to Connor under her breath, as she and everybody else stared at Dysmas. "_This_ is going to be fun."

* * *

"Did you think I was lying to you when I said I wasn't rusty?" asked Dysmas, not sure if she should be offended or darkly amused as she watched Superman activate the training platform. She reminded herself to keep up the French accent, trying to recall all the years she'd spent in Paris, learning her…craft.

"Well, you did say you'd retired," Superman replied. "I took that to mean that you'd need a few rounds to settle you back into it. We need you to be in top form."

She raised an eyebrow, but didn't respond, instead casting a sidelong gaze at the amount of people crowded around, watching her every move with blatant curiosity. The younger ones were the least subtle about it, standing in clusters along the platform, but even the seasoned Leaguers were observing the proceedings as they talked quietly on the couches. "Do you heroes always treat training as a spectator sport?"

Frowning, Superman looked up from the computer console and shot the kids who stood the closest a look. They shifted around a little and moved back so that they weren't actually standing on the platform, but resumed staring, albeit this time with a modicum of subtlety.

"They're curious because they think you're here to replace Batman," Nightwing said at her elbow.

"Isn't that why I'm here, though?" she said after a short pause, quickly relaxing the muscles in her body that had instinctively tensed at his statement.

"Replace with a big R, not replace with a little r," Nightwing replied.

"What you mean is that they're sizing me up and trying to see how much respect I should be given," she said. "Trying to see if I deserve to replace him."

Nightwing smiled a little. "Perceptive, as always."

"Hah," she said. "I get that. It's the smart thing to do. Who am I supposed to be sparring with, anyways? Canary?"

"Actually, I thought we could have a go," Nightwing said, noticing the face she pulled as he spoke. "What, think you can't handle it?"

"Kid," she said with a dramatic, affronted sniff that was only half in jest. "You are out of your league."

"Oh, you're on, _Dysmas_," he laughed. "I've picked up a few new tricks since we last went head to head, you know. Not to mention I grew about a foot."

"Still can't beat me for experience," she scoffed. "But hey, you don't have to take my word for it. Just be prepared to regret that ego."

"Alright, settle down," said Superman, as the platform began to glow a pale blue. "Everything's ready to go. I've entered Dysmas's specs, so you can begin any time."

"Come on, kid," Dysmas said, stepping onto the sparring field. "It's time for me to show the Boy Scout I can still throw a punch."

* * *

"So are we supposed to want Nightwing to win?" asked Artemis, watching Nightwing and Dysmas circling each other slowly, eyes scanning for weak points. "Because if he beats her, I mean, can she really take on Batman's job?"

"She's not taking over his job," Wally replied, leaning against the refrigerator, eyes trained on the stranger. "She's just…a sub while teacher's home sick for the day."

"Except teacher's not home sick for the day," Artemis said quietly.

"I meant for Nightwing to be teacher in that analogy, not Batman," Wally said. "I mean, if it weren't for the fact that he already has his hands full on this mission, he'd be the first choice. Everyone knows that. She's just a band-aid for a bad situation."

"I don't get it," Artemis said. "You don't seem to like her very much, and you haven't even known her a half hour. Not to mention the fact that she's got this whole femme fatale, Angelina-Jolie-circa-Tomb-Raider thing going on. What gives, Baywatch?"

"Hey," Wally said. "My girlfriend's hotter than Angelina Jolie in Tomb—,"

"Don't lie," Artemis laughed.

"I'm not lying!" Wally insisted, giving her a cheeseball grin that made her shake her head in amusement. "Look, I'm getting this weird vibe from Dysmas, that's all. I feel like I know her, but I just can't remember how, or from where."

"Well, maybe you've watched her kick ass at some point," Artemis said, eyes trained over his shoulder as she turned Wally around. "Because…well…she's kicking _ass_."

* * *

Dysmas had nearly forgotten how much she missed this. As she smoothly ducked another one of Nightwing's swift kicks, she could feel adrenaline shooting like lightning through her veins, that pure, wild rush you only got when every muscle, every tendon, every cell in your body was working together in perfect, deadly concert. It almost made her want to laugh, a pretty rare feat these days.

Nightwing had, in fact, improved plenty since she'd last fought him as Robin, when he'd been a smart mouthed, quick little brat by Batman's side. His fighting style, in many ways, reminded her of Bruce, which gave her a small edge. Mr. and Mrs. Wayne had sparred plenty, between obligatory charity galas and tedious cocktail parties, and she was rather intimately familiar with Bruce's strengths and weaknesses, some of which Nightwing had unconsciously picked up from his mentor over the years.

They moved quickly together, fluid and unerring, dancing around the platform to avoid kicks and punches, and as she calculated and observed, a plan began to take form.

She concentrated on increasing the speed and variety of her attacks, forcing her body into complicated combinations, seizing control of the pace at which they moved.

Nightwing's eyes narrowed as he moved to defend, limbs quickly blocking her attacks, filling the air with the solid _thunk_ of their armor colliding. She could tell by the furrow in his brow that he was trying to figure out her plan, considering every possible angle of attack she could take, trying to piece together a motive for moving at a pace that would tire her out long before his defenses started to flag.

_Ah, the overthinking_, she grinned to herself, whipping out a hand towards his face to provoke him into bringing both arms up in a defensive 'x.' _Usually effective, but makes it terribly hard to remember that not everything is so damn complicated_.

She brought her knee up and caught him across the stomach, causing him to stagger back with a surprised _oof!_

Before he could recover his balance, she brought her other leg down in a sweep, knocking him flat on his back and causing the platform to broadcast "FAIL" in big red letters around his prone form.

Winded, she took a step back, breathing heavily. She had to admit, she wasn't sure she'd actually be successful against the kid until near the end; her energy had been starting to flag when she'd spotted her opening.

"So you really aren't rusty," Nightwing managed, as she hauled him to his feet.

"Was there ever any doubt?" she said with a small smile, still high off her win. "Experience always trumps youth, kid."

"Hey, I almost had you," he protested.

"Oh," she scoffed, as he led her off the platform. "No one likes a sore loser."

_Winner: Dysmas_, the Cave's monitors blared in neon green letters, and she could hear the quiet chatter spreading like wildfire throughout the Cave, discussing the outcome, dissecting the fight.

Superman had his arms crossed, an inscrutable look on his face, when she met his gaze.

"Wonder how much respect that earned me," Dysmas muttered to herself, before raising her voice and asking "Who's next?"

* * *

_To be continued…_

* * *

**Author's Note:** And so ends chapter two; sorry for the choppy storytelling, I'm just trying to get all my characters in position so I can start moving the plot along. In terms of the official YJ timeline, I feel like this is set after the conclusion of Young Justice: Invasion's current story arc i.e. Artemis and Kaldur have already finished their undercover mission with Black Manta, the Light was subdued for a little while, and then launched another nefarious plot, the first stages of which got Batman killed.

I struggled with Selina Kyle's under cover name for quite a bit, before settling on the obvious with 'Dysmas.' Hope it's not too corny, haha.

As always, **please** drop a review if you have a question/comment! They make me day :)

* * *

_In response to anon Nightingale:_ I don't think I'll be adding Jason Todd; I'm not nearly as familiar with his characterization, and I generally dislike too many OC's in fanfiction. Sorry about that!


	3. Everybody Was Kung Fu Fighting

**Cat's Cradle**

See chapter's end for A/N – Disclaimer: Don't own anything – Rating: T on the cusp of M

* * *

02. _Everybody Was Kung Fu Fighting_

Nightwing threw himself onto the couch in front of the Cave's television, pinching the bridge of his nose in a futile attempt to control the headache blossoming behind his eyes.

"What's wrong?" asked M'gann, looking up from her bowl of cookie batter in the kitchen and shooting him a look of concern.

"Every purse thief and two bit thug in Gotham seems to have noticed Batman's absence at the same time," Nightwing said with a sigh. "They're all keyed up, testing their boundaries. It's getting a out of control, even when Batgirl, Robin, and I split up. We've called up all the other heroes in the city, but they're getting bolder."

M'gann looked sympathetic. "Want me to shape shift and—,"

"No!" Nightwing burst out, eyes widening behind his mask.

Taken aback, M'gann said, "Sorry, I just meant…it might help? If all those criminals were reminded that there are still heroes in Gotham…"

"I'm sorry," Nightwing said apologetically, wincing. "I didn't mean to snap at you, but…I don't think it would be a good idea for you to shape shift into Batman. Thank you, though, for the offer." He looked down at his gloved hands, and M'gann took that as her cue to shut up. She started dropping her cookie batter onto a tray, occasionally glancing over at Nightwing. He didn't move from his spot, and after a few minutes, she realized he'd fallen asleep.

Concerned, she walked over to the couch. Was it just her imagination, or did he look…thinner? Even under the body armor and mask, he seemed like he hadn't been eating properly—his skin was pale and his cheeks were gaunt. He was also usually way too paranoid to just randomly fall asleep anywhere, even if it was the Cave.

"Dick?" she said, putting a hand on his shoulder and gently shaking him. He really ought to get to a bed and sleep properly. "Dick, wake up."

He started awake, looking up at her in confusion before groaning and slumping against the back of the couch. "Ugh, did I fall asleep? Sorry about that."

"Don't apologize to me, get yourself to a bed and take a nap," she said, using the stern voice she normally utilized when Garfield was refusing to study.

"Can't," he replied. "Still have to follow up on this experiment Batman was doing. It seems like he thought the Light might be—,"

"Nuh uh," M'gann said, cutting him off. "Go take a nap."

"But—,"

"_Richard_."

"Man, you sound like Selina," Nightwing muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" M'gann asked, but he shook his head.

"Nothing. Fine, fine, I'll go take a nap. But promise you'll wake me in an hour, okay? I've got a lot of work to do."

"Sure," M'gann replied, remembering to cross her fingers behind her back. These Earth customs were really quite useful sometimes.

* * *

"Selina!"

Selina Kyle turned around to see Oliver Queen walking towards her, dressed down in a perfectly tailored black suit with an emerald tie.

"Oliver," she said in greeting, voice cool and collected as befitted Bruce Wayne's widow inside Wayne Enterprise's headquarters. "You're a long way from home. Is Queen Industries doing business in Gotham today?"

"You could say that," he said. "At any rate, I'm doing business in Gotham today. I'm sorry to stop you, but I have a message for you, from Dinah."

"Ah," Selina said, then paused delicately. "From Dinah, or from Dinah's…friend?"

"The latter," he said, amused.

She snorted. "Well, this is a strange way of delivering it, out in broad daylight and without any encryption or anything. Very sloppy, Queen. I expected better from Spandex United."

"Oh, don't start," he said. "And anyways, the message I'm supposed to deliver is that I'm going to deliver you."

"Deliver…me?" she asked, dark eyebrows arching incredulously. "Deliver me where?"

"Where do you think?" he said.

Selina sighed. "Look, Queen, as much as I'm enjoying our delightful banter, I'm a bit busy at the moment. This wasn't in the job description. I'm supposed to get in, do my work, and then forget any of this ever existed."

"I know, I know, but apparently Dick's been running himself into the ground, and one of his friends finally got him to sleep. The kids called Dinah in to cover for him, but she's busy with some of Bruce's responsibilities. I guess if you're really busy I could just tell the kids to wake Dick…" he trailed off.

She stared stonily at his expression of innocence for a moment, then huffed, "Damn it, Queen, you better keep your amateur attempts at manipulation far away from me in the future. I'm _only_ doing this because I don't think Dick's slept in three days."

"Great! So glad you could rearrange your schedule," Oliver said brightly. "Let's hurry, don't want to keep them waiting!"

As he started out of the Wayne building's lobby, she called after him, "Wait! You haven't even told me what I'm supposed to be _doing_!"

* * *

"Where's Black Canary?" Connor asked, frowning as the computer announced the arrival of Green Arrow and Dysmas. "What's _she_ doing here?"

"_She_ would like to know that as well," Dysmas said, irritated both by Superboy's super bad attitude and Green Arrow's uncharacteristic discretion. She remembered just in time to slip into the faux French accent.

"Well, since Nightwing's recuperating and Black Canary is already on League business, she thought Dysmas would be a great substitute battle teacher," Green Arrow said.

"_What_?" said Connor and Dysmas simultaneously.

"You couldn't have told me this earlier—,"

"Why should we have to learn from _her_—,"

"Okay, okay!" Green Arrow said soothingly. "Look, Superboy, Dysmas is plenty qualified for the job. You saw her beat Nightwing yesterday, and Nightwing's been alternating teaching lessons with Canary, right? And Dysmas, you said yourself that Nightwing needs his sleep. So let's stop standing around and call everyone together. Time is money, you know."

Scowling, Connor stalked off to gather the other members of the Team, and Dysmas turned to Green Arrow.

"Really?" she said. "Battle teacher? What, you want me to teach them how to disable proximity alarms with a Glock while simultaneously knocking out three security guards?"

"Just the kicking and the punching stuff should be fine," Green Arrow said smoothly.

"You're a real bastard, you know?" Dysmas said, with a resigned sigh.

"Aw, come on, it might be fun," he said. "The kids are great."

"Yeah, Superbrat's a laugh a minute," she replied.

"He'll warm up to you," Green Arrow said.

"Oh really? Has he ever warmed up to you?"

Green Arrow didn't answer, and Dysmas rolled her eyes.

The members of the Team were flooding into the common area from around Mt. Justice, talking amongst themselves and shooting Dysmas curious glances. Her fight with Nightwing yesterday seemed to have made them nosier than ever, and she was gearing herself up for their interrogation once Green Arrow left.

Dysmas noticed that Flash's old sidekick and the younger, female archer were still around.

"I thought those two quit," she said to Arrow, nodding at them.

"They did," he replied. "But they come back pretty often. It's a hard thing to leave behind."

"No kidding," she said, watching them watch her.

"Well, you've got the run of the place," Green Arrow said, turning around and heading towards the zeta tubes. "Have fun!"

"Yeah," she said under her breath. "Fun."

"Who are you?" a voice piped up, and she turned her gaze to the small green boy with a monkey's tail.

"A substitute," she responded.

"You can say that again," Superboy muttered under his breath.

"I may not have super hearing, but I sure as hell can hear you, Superbrat," she responded, temper flaring before she could tamp it down. With a sigh, she put a hand to her forehead. "Well, that wasn't very teacherly. But I would _appreciate_ your restraint while I'm talking, _Connor_."

"Yeah, whatever, _Dysmas,_" he said.

Ignoring him, she said to the whole group, "Okay then, let's get started. Split up into pairs based on skill level and start sparring. I want hand to hand, no weapons, and try to keep the abilities down. It's important to be able to attack and defend the plain old non-super way. I'll come around and check up on you."

The Team obligingly did as she said, but as Connor made to pair up with Kid Flash, she motioned him over.

"Come on, Superbrat, you're with me. The group's uneven."

They faced off against each other. He was sizing her up with thinly veiled hostility.

"What is it with you Boy Scouts and not trusting me?" she asked. "Does the x-ray vision reveal my supervillain's club membership badge or something?"

"I'm not a Boy Scout," he said, lunging for her with little grace.

She avoided him with a neat side-step. "Your intentions are written in your body language, brat. Try to relax into the movements instead of tensing up."

He lunged again, and she ducked his swing.

"Again. Control your body. Don't move without knowing you can direct your power."

This time he went in for a punch to her jaw, then redirected his momentum into side kick when she dodged.

"Good," she said, dancing nimbly out of the way. "Better. Go again."

Snarling with frustration, he loosed a powerful jab, missing Dysmas by mere centimeters.

"Don't get angry, just hit me," she said, raising a brow at him.

"Believe me, I'm trying," he responded.

They continued this way for a few more minutes, before she brought him to a halt. She had to give it to the brat, he had some serious anger issues and he was venting them into his fists and feet, but he was having trouble exerting complete control over himself. It was going to be an issue if he had to face off against someone who had more advanced training than your regular, everyday henchman and couldn't use his superpowers.

"Alright," she said, giving him a nod. "I'm going to check on the others, go grab some water and then join me. It'll do you good to observe other fighting styles clinically."

He stepped off the platform without a word and she made her rounds, correcting stances and demonstrating new combinations and defensive techniques. Connor joined her after she'd finished with the first pair, and she began talking through her observations, telling him what she saw and didn't see before stopping the fighters to address their issues. To her surprise, the words came naturally to her. She was pretty much just giving voice to the thoughts she had when she was fighting an opponent, the weaknesses she took advantage of and the strengths she undermined. It seemed to be working, though. The kids were, by and large, listening to her without obvious complaint, and were even picking up on some of the things she taught.

The last pair she worked with was Wonder Woman Jr. and the Annoyance from the Black Lagoon. After observing their sparring, Dysmas moved in to adjust both their stances and lecture them about the importance of thinking before they moved.

"But Diz," Wonder Girl said, in what could be construed as a whine. "I've trained with Wonder Woman this is the way that she fights. And Wonder Woman always wins."

Lips tightening at the shortened form of her "name," Dysmas decided to take the high road and ignore it, instead focusing on the lesson.

"Look, Wonder Woman can do whatever she wants however she wants because, obviously, it works for her. She's also got decades of experience on you. For now, though, try to stick with the simple stuff and leave out the decorative twirls."

"But Diz," Lagoon Boy said, in no less of a whine than Wonder Girl. "Aquaman said—,"

"Enough," Dysmas said, in the best teacher voice she could muster, tamping down stray thoughts of duct taping their mouths shut until they grew out of the whining stage. "This isn't a show pony competition. You don't get extra points for looking cool and shouting punny threats. Fighting is about survival, about exerting your will over somebody else. Artemis, could you come over here?"

Artemis, who was paired up with M'gann a few feet away, paused in her movements and walked over.

"What's up?" she asked, looking at Dysmas with a certain scrutiny that managed to be benign instead of annoying. She'd impressed Dysmas earlier on with her no nonsense jabs and willingness to play a little dirty if it meant getting the upper hand.

"You fight a lot as a kid?" Dysmas asked, watching her expression carefully.

As expected, Artemis looked more than a little perturbed. "What's it matter?" she said, an edge in her voice.

"Watching you fight reminds me of growing up in the Narrows, is all," Dysmas replied.

"_You_ grew up in the Narrows?" Artemis asked, surprise apparent all over her face.

"I did, and it taught me not to worry about fancy flips when a good old knee to the gut could do the job," Dysmas said. "Now watch, you two." She nodded at Wonder Girl and Lagoon Boy, who reluctantly turned their attention towards Artemis.

Quick as a snake, Dysmas sent a fist flying at Artemis's face. The blonde dodged with little fanfare, stepping to the side and moving out of punching range before dropping low to avoid Dysmas's follow up roundhouse. Taking advantage of her position, Artemis swept out her leg, and Dysmas jumped slightly to avoid it, turning her momentum into a knee aimed at the blonde's face. Artemis extended her arm and knocked the knee out of the way, springing to her feet and moving back into a ready position, watching for the next attack.

"There," Dysmas said, with a faint smile. "See that? How she knocked my knee out of the way instead of rolling or trying to attack me instead? Ugly though it might be, it was very efficient. Thanks, Artemis, you can go back to sparring now."

Artemis was staring at her intently, looking rather curious, but nodded at her words and headed back to M'gann, who had been watching the round with Connor.

"Now," Dysmas said to Wonder Girl and Lagoon Boy. "Have another go at it before we wrap up, remembering the basics." She watched them begin again, voicing her approval or critique every so often.

The hour and a half allotted for their lesson had flown by quickly, and at the end, Dysmas found herself quite pleased with the Team's progress and how painless it had been in general. When she dismissed them, she knew they were equally as surprised that they hadn't minded her as a substitute, and even the green boy was smiling cheerily and announcing to everyone who could hear how awesome his lesson had been.

"Sorry," Superboy said from behind her, as she was watching the Team disperse around the mountain. She turned to see him staring determinedly at the ground. "Y'know, for the back talk earlier…or…whatever."

"It's fine, brat," she said, giving him a half smile. "You're a punk ass kid, you know."

"What!" he said, eyes immediately springing to her face and glaring. "I just apologized—,"

"Yeah, yeah," she said. "I never said being a punk ass kid was a bad thing."

"It sure sounds like a bad thing," he grunted.

"Not to me," she said. "I was a punk ass kid, too. I consider it a badge of honor."

He shot her a surprised look. "I don't know too many heroes who would consider being any sort of punk an honor."

"That might be because I'm not your sort of hero," she said with a short, humorless chuckle. Before he could question her further, she'd turned and headed for the zeta tubes.

"See you around, brat," she called over her shoulder, before stepping onto the platform and disappearing in a spasm of yellow energy.

"Not my kind of hero, huh?" Connor repeated, as Wally, Artemis, and M'gann came up behind him, all looking at the place where Dysmas had disappeared. "Then what kind of hero _are_ you?"

* * *

_To be continued…_

* * *

**Author's Note:** So yes, the old Team will definitely start putting together the pieces of who Dysmas really is; whether or not they'll eventually figure it all out remains to be seen. My goal with this chapter was really to plant the seed of Selina bonding with the Team; I started writing this fic after watching Batman cartoons/_The Dark Knight Rises_ and thinking about what a kick ass mentor Selina would be if, y'know, she wasn't so deliciously bad.

For all of you who haven't seen Nolan's films, the Narrows is an island in the middle of Gotham River, between midtown and downtown. It's basically a huge, dilapidated, crowded slum and the location of Arkham Asylum. As you can imagine, lots of bad stuff goes down there. I loved Nolan's Gotham and am taking it as canon here. I figured Artemis would have grown up in the Narrows, as she mentions having to fight for her life, and the show depicts her apartment as run down (not to mention the whole Sportsmaster/Huntress angle).

Reviews, as always, make my day and encourage me to write ever faster ;) Please drop me a line if you have any questions/comments!

P.S. For all of you who haven't seen Nolan's films, GO SEE NOLAN'S FILMS!


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